


Flaws

by gypsiangel



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Added creepy Grindlewald, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cinnamon Roll Newt Scamander, College professor Gellert Grindlewald, F/M, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Neighbors, Obsessive Behavior, Overprotective Theseus Scamander, Police Officer Original Percival Graves, Protective Original Percival Graves, anxiety and depression, anxiety spiral, college student Newt, more tags as I go along, romance abounds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-10
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-05-20 10:30:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14892929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gypsiangel/pseuds/gypsiangel
Summary: You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeveAnd I have always buried them deep beneath the groundDig them up; let's finish what we've startedDig them up, so nothing's left untouched





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title and summary are from the song "Flaws" by Bastille. :) I've been obsessed with their music for a while now, and I couldn't pass it up. This is my first modern AU, so I hope I haven't mucked it up too badly and followed the character personalities well enough. I came across this fic in a random file and just ran with it, so I hope you guys like it. As another little side note, I have no idea how the college system works, let alone from the perspective of someone on a foreign scholarship, so if I get anything horrendously wrong, kindly correct me. I'll be glazing over most intricate details, so we should be good. Anyway, thanks for checking this out, and lmk how you like it!

 

*~*~*

          Just when Newt thought his day couldn’t get much worse, it did. Nerves jangling from an unusually busy day working the counter at the local bookstore/café and being shouted at by a nasty customer right before closing, he’d been rushing to try and get inside his building before anyone thought to stop him for a chat, he rounded the corner and smacked his forehead on an open mailbox. The pain was blinding, and all he could do was lean against the wall and hold onto his forehead while it throbbed. Whoever decided that having the tenant mailboxes lining the foyer walls should be drawn and quartered. _Bloody fucking hell._

          There was warm, thick liquid running down his face and fingers and he let out a vicious oath. As a poor student here in the states on a foreign scholarship, he couldn’t afford to go in for stitches. Knowing that head wounds bled a lot, but knowing his luck all the same, he tried to think around the blinding pain to try and remember if he had any small band aids that would work as a butterfly stitch if he really needed it.

          There was someone speaking to him in a low, worried tone, but Newt couldn’t really hear anything over the rushing in his ears. He jerked when cool, large hands touched his and gently pulled them away from his face. Oh, gods. Someone had seen this epic disaster. The embarrassment didn’t help the headache that was throbbing through his skull as all the blood rushed to his face.

          “… I’m so sorry, I’m new to the building and didn’t realize the door stuck out that far,” the man was explaining when Newt’s hearing kicked back in. He had a very nice voice, pitched soft and it carried a deep, mature note that ordinarily would have sent the British native into an appreciative stumble. Right now, with his eyes streaming tears and blood dripping down his chin, he just wanted to go up to his apartment and take care of the damage and sulk.

          “Usually people can just walk under these bloody things,” Newt managed, and for once his words were surprisingly easy to find. Maybe it was the head trauma and the basic need to just get away that made it easier to just blurt out whatever popped into his brain. “Unless you’re freakishly tall and utterly oblivious. It’s all right. I’m all right. I just need to go clean up and find out if there’s any of the…” his words trailed off when he tried to push away from the wall and felt a rush of dizziness. “Bugger. I guess I-I’ll just stay here for a moment. Don’t mind me, I’m s-sure you’ve got other things to do.”

          “Nice try, buddy, but I’m not gonna let you bleed out in the foyer when it was my fault you got hurt in the first place.” There was an undercurrent of amusement floating below the concern. “You can form coherent words, so that’s a bonus.”

          “Seems I can form more coherent words when my head’s been knocked around than when I’m not addled. Cheers. But really, I can take care of it-”

          “Detective Percival Graves, at your service,” the man interrupted, and now there really was a bit of amusement as Newt froze and really looked at his new neighbor that had nearly decapitated him. The pale, handsome face looking back at him had a charming grin that made his stomach drop just a little. Thick dark hair, dark eyes, smart smile. _Bloody hell._ “See, I would be neglecting my sworn duty to not see to a citizen in need. Especially if I’m the one that caused the bloodshed.”

          “Fine.” Newt tried a smile, but he was sure it was a weak thing at best. “It’s your time wasted, detective.”

          “Just Percival is fine. Or Graves, I answer to both.” Before Newt had a chance to come back with anything else, the newly introduced neighbor was gently tugging him away from the wall, steadying him when he wavered just a bit. “Easy. Which floor are you on?”

          “Fourth. Toward the back, flat 8H.” Maybe he shouldn’t have skipped his lunch break, Newt thought as he allowed the other man to lead him to the elevator, which thankfully was working. It had been down for two weeks and had just been repaired. He wasn’t up for trusting it most days, considering that he’d once been stuck for two hours with four bags of groceries, three neighborhood children, and their chatty mother. Newt wasn’t one for violence, but by the end of it he’d been surprised that he hadn’t forcibly taped the woman’s mouth shut and the noisy hellions to the ceiling with the duct tape he’d purchased as a cheaper alternative to buying a new cage for Niff. Once was enough for him. He’d taken the stairs from then on, unless he absolutely had no other choice.

          This seemed to be one of those ‘no choice’ situations. Not prone to idle chat on a good day, Newt kept his tongue even as questions randomly floated through his mind. He thought about warning Percival that the elevator was a hellish place that rattled in fits and starts and randomly forgot to start again. He thought about asking him how long he’d been living in the building, as Newt had been there for nearly two years and hadn’t seen him before. He thought about asking if the other man had a pet. A dog, a cat… an aquarium. He thought about saying those things, but his voice decided to just rest a while. Speaking to others was a bit of a chore, so he had a habit of not doing it outside of work unless he had something really interesting to speak about, and someone really interesting to speak to. Right now, feeling like his head is going to split apart, his stomach uneasy, and the anxiety about the bloody elevator, Newt was content just to let there be silence.

          Thankfully the elevator, which Newt had silently named ‘Gladys’ just because he named everything, and it was a lot less intimidating if he thought of it as a cranky old lady instead of a metal monster, dinged his floor and the doors slid open with a rusty sigh. One would think that with the insane price of rent, they would fix the damn thing. Theseus was helping him foot the bill while he was finishing up his degree, with the agreement that Newt wouldn’t fuck it all up by smuggling in random animals and get evicted. So far so good. It helped that he was allowed two, so if Frank, Pickett, or Swoop decided to nap on the windowsill and someone saw, it wouldn’t be a travesty. Frank and Swoop were roughly the same color, so as long as no one looked too closely it would be fine. Management didn’t need to know about the three turtles, two rats, and Niff the Ferret.

          Just as he was fitting the key into his lock, he had a thought that this stranger he was about to let inside his sanctuary was a cop, and probably lived by the rule book. He sighed and braced himself, hoping that Swoop was in his usual snit and hiding in the bedroom. Frank was moderately social, but preferred the top of the bookcase when people were over. Pickett, however, was a right sweetheart of a feline, if a bit clingy. He was diligent about keeping his apartment sparkling clean; a leftover of living with his germaphobe brother for so long. As long as Percival didn’t peek into the spare bedroom he kept as an office, they’d all be fine.

          He sighed and let them in. There was a suspended moment where he caught sight of the black and white serpentine slink of his escape artist of a ferret going straight for the door. Before he could do more than utter a garbled exclamation, his companion had already scooped up the critter and shut the door behind him.

          “Who’s this, then,” Percival asked, and Newt relaxed a bit when he heard the affection in the other man’s tone. “Thought you could dart around, did ya? Well, better luck next time, pal.”

          “That’s Niff,” Newt told him, smiling despite himself. “He’s the resident thief and escapist. The last time he got out, I had to return five gold coins, eight brass buttons, and twelve mismatched earrings. Had a bugger of a time figuring out what belonged to who. Thankfully, he didn’t make it into the stairwells and onto different floors.”

          He took the squirming ferret and deposited him into the massive, homemade structure that took up most of one wall of his living room. He flicked the lock and then put the tape back over it. “You’ve had enough adventure for three lifetimes, you pest. I’ll let you out again soon enough, yeah?”

          After another moment, he shook his head and headed toward the bathroom cupboard where he kept his first aid kit. Grabbing it and a clean cloth, he neatly avoided looking at himself in the mirror. The last thing he wanted was to know exactly how horrible he looked when there was someone as attractive as his new neighbor in his living room. When he returned, Percival was looking at the array of framed photos and postcards littering the mantle of his fireplace. Most of them were of him and Theseus before he’d come to the states to finish his education; three or four of the two of them as boys with their parents, then as teenagers. Finally, there was a handful of their recent escapades when his brother had visited over the holiday.

          The dark-haired man was holding one of the recent ones, a selfie that Theseus had taken when Newt had been laughing and he’d ducked in to kiss his cheek. Despite being basically a blind shot, it had turned out the best of the lot. His brother had liked it so much, he’d made a couple prints of it and placed one on Newt’s mantle collection while he kept the other one for his office.

          From Theseus’s profile, they hardly looked related unless you were really looking. His brother had a habit of wearing a cap when he wasn’t on the job, so the auburn hair he shared with Newt wasn’t as obvious, and of course, his older brother had escaped the freckles and incredibly fair skin. In all, they shared a lanky build, unruly ginger hair, and blue-gold eyes. From the side, they hardly looked like brothers, so Newt shouldn’t have been so surprised when Percival casually asked, “Is this your boyfriend?”

          If his head hadn’t been aching so badly, he might have picked up on how forced that casualness was, but he didn’t. He chuckled, regretting it immediately as it sent a shard of pain through his skull and down the back of his neck.

          “What? Oh, no. That’s my brother, Theseus. I’m sure he’s using his copy of it as a deterrent for unsolicited maneuvers, the prat. He was just here for the holidays.”

          Percival replaced the frame and turned to him, his smile a bit softer as he took the kit from Newt’s hands. “It looks like you two had a good time. Do anything touristy?”

          “Oh, we did all the touristy things we could think of, and then some. I had a friend draw up a list.” Newt let himself be led into the kitchen where he took a seat facing the light. He closed his eyes and let his neighbor tend to his face. It felt odd, having someone fuss over him like this, especially a stranger, but he wasn’t one to be overly assertive. Besides the awkwardness of the entire situation, it did feel nice to have someone tend to him when he was feeling so out of it.

          “You really should get a few stitches in this,” Percival muttered, gently prodding at the cut and bruising.

          Newt couldn’t reign in his grimace as he cracked his eyes open to look up at the other man, face burning as he realized how close they were. His neighbor was standing neatly between his legs, narrow hips nearly touching the inside of Newt’s thighs. If he shifted just a fraction, they would be pressed together. He didn’t know how he felt about that.

          “I’m pretty sure I have small band aids in there for a b-butterfly stitch.” Newt’s voice was a bit breathy, and he cleared his throat before adding, “I have really shitty insurance, and a phobia of medics.”

          There was a pause, then bloody fucking dimples appeared as Percival laughed, shaking his head as he reached back into the kit and retrieved the bandages. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone else quite like you. It sucks that I had to nearly take your head off to make your acquaintance, but I’m really glad that I did.”

          “I’m not usually so well received. It may be a good thing that we met under these circumstances,” Newt snorted, then held still when a large hand cupped his chin and tilted his head up again. He closed his eyes and continued, “Brain addled might be the best way to not come across as a complete awkward nutter.”

          “Oh, you’re still odd and awkward, but that’s a part of the charm.” There was warm teasing in Percival’s tone, and despite the ache and pull of the bandages, Newt felt a wash of something that resembled pleasure zip through him.

          “Oh, you just don’t know me well enough,” Newt told him, trying for the same kind of teasing tone, but it ended up sounding more on the melancholy side. “Just wait, you’ll get annoyed quick enough.”

          Those hands paused, and Newt was a bit more successful in hiding the cringe this time, or at least, he hoped he was. He didn’t dare to open his eyes again, not wanting to see whatever was on the other man’s face. Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut? Things had been going well enough. Queenie’s recent words rolled through his mind, ‘Honey, you don’t just tell people how to feel about you. That’s not the way this works. I like you just fine.’

          “Well, if that’s an invitation to stick around, I’ll take it.”

          Newt’s eyes popped open and he stared at Percival in shock. That wasn’t what he’d expected. His neighbor was still cradling his face, and now there was a thumb gently caressing his jawline. There was a softness to those handsome features, a fondness that seemed to be a bit too developed for only an hour’s acquaintance. Suddenly a bit uncomfortable, Newt pulled back a little and cleared his throat again, looking away.

          “Thank you,” he said quietly, then fell back on the time-proven, stereotypical British method of coping. “Would you care for some tea? I know I bloody well could use some right about now.”

          Realizing what he was doing and respecting it, Percival stepped back and started repacking the kit. “You wouldn’t happen to have any coffee, would you?”

          Newt lit up, though he wavered a bit on his feet, and went into the kitchen. “I do, in fact, have coffee. Thee picked up the habit while in Egypt, of all places. I still have some left from when he was here.”

          Percival watched the young man nervously rummage through his pantry for the coffee and tea, after turning the burner on under the kettle. He was utterly fascinated. In the two months he’d lived in the building, he’d seen the Brit coming and going, always with his head down and hurrying as if he didn’t want to be approached. He wasn’t even remotely ashamed that he’d done some digging and used his position as a civil servant for his own gains. Besides, Agatha Truesdale in apartment 5H was a gossipy busybody and probably would have spilled the beans on the ‘quiet, strange man in 8H’, even without a few carefully casual questions.

          Newt Scamander was twenty-four, originally from London, in the states on an education visa and on the final stages of his veterinary degree. According to Agatha, he was unendingly sweet and had helped her out with her precious Crookshanks when the gigantic orange mess of fur that someone jokingly called a cat got into something unsavory. He had few friends, she’d gleefully imparted with a gleam in her rheumy eyes. A couple of girls and an oddly happy boy that was always bringing sweets with him.

          “Shame that our sweet Newton doesn’t have a sweetheart, I think,” Agatha had tutted. “I would think he’d be very lonely being so far from home and family.”

          Unable to leave it at that, Percival had made use of the IT department and intimidated one of the interns into doing an in-depth background. Newt had been orphaned at the age of eleven and put into a boarding school full time, paid for by his parents’ estate and at the insistence of legal council saying that his brother Theseus, at seventeen, wasn’t old enough to care for his sibling. He was there until he was fifteen and there was a bit of trouble involving a prank and a group of other students that ended up getting him expelled.

          Percival had tried to dig even deeper on the matter, intrigued by the concept of the shy, pretty man taking part in anything that would even potentially cause enough trouble to be expelled, but the Hogwarts (what kind of name for a school is _Hogwarts_ anyway) records were highly confidential. It would be more trouble than it was worth to risk it. After boarding school, he’d returned home to live with his brother, who had by then graduated with honors from the criminology program and was making a fast, upward progress in Scotland Yard. Young Newt had gone into public school where he’d made top marks and barely made a peep until he’d graduated fourth in his class.

          At that point, the detective had decided that he needed to meet his neighbor instead of just hovering and being creepy. But engaging with Newt was a whole new ballgame. Working at a bookstore café to supplement the scholarship and what money his trust fund stipend didn’t cover, he wasn’t necessarily unattainable. It was just that he seemed to be very good at avoiding any meaningful conversation. Quick, polite, to the point. “Is this all? Did you find everything all right? Good, good. Latte? Here ya go, mate. Have a good day.” No eye contact and no idle chatter.

          He hadn’t meant to leave his mailbox open; it truly had been an accident. But he was having a real person-to-person conversation and it did nothing to alleviate his curiosity that was quickly becoming an obsession. All right. He could admit it now while he was watching the lanky, auburn haired, stunningly gorgeous man measure too much black coffee into the French-press. He’d already been on the fast track to obsession, and this just sealed it.

          Now, as long as he didn’t let on exactly how much he already knew about the other man, they’d be fine.

*~*~*

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3 Aannnd here we go!

 

*~*~*

          “What happened to your face, man?” Jacob looked and sounded horrified when he saw Newt come in the door to his bakery a few days later. Ignoring the people lined up at his register, he quickly rounded the counter and grabbed at Newt’s face.

          To Newt’s credit, he managed not to flinch back at the sudden movement but evaded as gently as possible. “I had an encounter with a mailbox. I’m fine, Jacob, really. Go on and help your customers and then we can chat, yeah? I’m just gonna nip around and grab a muffin and some tea.”

          As his first friend off the plane from England, Jacob had earned points. As his first _real friend_ ever, Jacob had earned _a lot_ of points. Over the years, Newt had become comfortable enough to make himself at home in the bakery. He’d worked there when it had first opened and before Queenie had come into their lives. It had been one of the best years he could ever remember. He would still be working there if it hadn’t been for Tina and Theseus unconsciously planting the seed in his head that it was best to leave the two lovebirds to their own nest.

          He knew that his brother and friend hadn’t meant for him to take their ribbing to heart, but he had. There was a part of him that would always see himself as being in the way, as a nuisance; the third wheel. Even to the people that had never given him any indication they felt that way. It being New York, he’d found another job easy enough and lied, saying it was because of scheduling. The bookstore stayed open later than Jacob’s, and they were more than willing to give him a flexible schedule.

          When Jacob joined him at the table and the newest employee took over at the counter, there was a concerned light in those dark eyes. Newt kept his own orbs on the blueberry muffin he’d torn apart with nervous fingers. He’d been exceedingly jumpy the last week, and his old nemesis insomnia had made a comeback. Recognizing an anxiety spike, he’d been throwing himself into his studies and trying to keep away from anyone he didn’t have to interact with. Work had been a nightmare, with a growing inability to stand or sit still, he’d been snapped at no less than four times by the reigning assistant manager and had been banished to stocking shelves.

          “So, what did you do to your head?” Jacob passed him a fresh tea and a savory scone with a healthy dose of butter. “And don’t argue with me and just eat, buddy. I swear, you’ve lost five pounds since the last time I saw you. Do you need a ride to the store? Queenie and I can…”

          “I’m good,” Newt interrupted and dutifully took a bite of the scone. It was delicious as always, but it felt like sand in his mouth. His appetite just wasn’t where it was supposed to be, his stomach too jumpy to really hold much. “I’ve just been really busy with everything. I have a bit in the cupboards.”

          Jacob looked at him like he knew Newt was stretching the truth but didn’t want to argue about it. He’d be expecting a visit from his friends sometime soon, he wagered to himself, trying to bite back a sigh.

          “Really, Jacob, I’m all right. Just stressed, that’s all.”

          “I wish you’d come back to work here, man. We’re busy enough to expand hours, and I’ve gotta start lookin’ for more part time help soon. Credence is great and all, but he’s not you.”

          Newt diligently stared down at his hands cradled around his tea and felt the horrible burning behind his eyes. “I- I can’t. I’ve-”

          “Look, I don’t know what I did to chase you away-”

          “What? You didn’t… Ja-”

          “No, hear me out. I know something happened to make you wanna go work somewhere else. I get it, stuff happens, and I know you’ve got this anxiety thing going and you don’t like to talk about stuff. But you’ve been staying away from hanging out like we used to too, and I don’t like it. If you’ve outgrown our friendship or something like that, then tell me. If it’s something I did or said or whatever, tell me so we can work it out and get over it. I miss you, Newt. I miss you a lot.”

          Obviously, this had been something on his friend’s mind for a while, and Newt felt like a total heel. Heart jumping, he tried to explain without making it worse. “It wasn’t anything you did,” he started, glancing up quickly, then back down. “I just didn’t want to horn in on your time with Queenie. You guys needed some space, and I know I can be a bit clingy sometimes. When couples first get together…” He raised his hands and let his voice trail off, knowing that it sounded lame, but there wasn’t anything else he could say.

          “That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Jacob nearly exploded. “Who planted that in your head? Whoever it is needs a quick kick to the balls.”

          Newt felt his face burn and he was humiliatingly close to tears. He just wanted to leave, or for the floor to open and swallow him whole. This was why he didn’t talk to them about it. Of course, Jacob and Queenie wouldn’t see it that way, and Tina either, even though it was her joking around that had planted part of those seeds. He barely heard Jacob’s continued rant over the rushing in his ears. In a split second, it became too much, and he grabbed his backpack and bolted.

            By the time he had hit the crosswalk, he was running, and he didn’t stop until his lungs burned, and his knee threatened to give out. Slowing to a walk, then a stop, he leaned his hands on his thighs and breathed. Feeling like he wanted to vomit from all the emotions roiling about inside and the mad dash through the city, he limped his way over to a park bench. Somehow, he’d made it all the way to Central Park, a good four blocks over from his friend’s bakery.

          Slipping his backpack off his shoulders and sitting down, he promptly rested his head on his knees. He sure as fuck had cocked it all up, hadn’t he? Now Jacob really would think he’d gone mental. He half expected to get a call from Theseus at any time. At least he knew that the other man wouldn’t call mental health on him. That had happened when he was younger and still in England. One of his first roommates had gotten worried after Newt had refused to come out of his room for three weeks. In truth, he’d hated the noise and intrusive behavior of the woman and had worked to stay out of her way. He’d left the room when she wasn’t there, or she was sleeping. It meant that he’d had to leave almost two hours early for classes, but it had served the purpose. But it had apparently worked too well, because without Theseus’s intervention and a well-timed call from his therapist, it might have escalated into something a bit worse.

          That was the last time he’d had a roommate. If it meant living with his brother, who was well aware of Newt’s oddities and just rolled with it most of the time, and working a part time job here in the states to supplement his scholarship money and Theseus helping with his rent, he was okay with that. Pride be damned, he wasn’t going to go through another one of those well-meant ‘interventions’.

          He might have just lost a friend, though, and at the thought Newt finally broke into sobs. What the bloody hell was he doing? Why couldn’t he just be normal? Maybe he was wrong on holding out on taking medications for this mess. After his days at Hogwarts and the whole fiasco with Leta and getting expelled, he’d fallen into a deep depression. The doctors had put him on a series of meds to ‘find the right balance’, and it had resulted in a serious suicide attempt. He and Theseus had found different therapists and doctors and worked through it. He had gone off all the mood-changing meds and started a different kind of regimen that had worked up until now. But it wasn’t depression he was dealing with this time. His anxiety disorder hadn’t been as dangerous, but it had been just as disruptive.

          Over their holiday, his older brother had brought up the idea of asking for something to ease this burden. Newt didn’t want anything to do with substances that might mess with his mind. He remembered the utter apathy that he’d experienced right before he’d downed a bottle of pills when he was sixteen. He might not remember the entire episode clearly, but he remembered that well enough.

          He jolted at the feeling of a hand on his back, and Newt realized that there was someone sitting next to him on the bench, and he had no idea how long they’d been there.

          “Hey, hey, you okay there?” Humiliation burned in his gut and he thought for a second that he might just throw up yet.

          “I’m fine,” he muttered against his knees, not wanting to lift his face up. He was a horrible crier; incredibly fair skin always made sure of that.

          “I can see that,” Percival’s voice didn’t hold anything but dry sarcasm and a hint of concern. “I have tissues and I promise to look away if your face is all gunky.”

          The matter of fact way the older man said it made Newt choke on a laugh, shaking his head. “I’m not done acting like a child yet, but thanks all the same.”

          “All right, but the offer remains.”

          After a long moment of silence and the heavy, reassuring weight of his neighbor’s hand didn’t retreat from his back, Newt reached out for the tissues. Lifting up, he quickly wiped at the mess of his face and blew his nose, turning away so that he couldn’t see Percival. Feeling utterly exhausted, he just sat there for a moment and waited for the questions. None came.

          After a long couple minutes of silence, he finally dared a glance over at Percival, who’s dark eyes were focused on the ducks wandering around in front of them. “Thanks,” he murmured, breaking the quiet.

          “No problem,” the detective not-quite-smirked over at him. “This kind of weather, I always carry a handful in my pockets. There’s nothing worse than having a runny nose and having to use your sleeve. It loses some of the hard ass points pretty quickly.”

          Newt barked a laugh and leaned back, looking up to try to ease some of the ache in his head and neck. “You’re good at this, you know?”

          “Good at what? Witty banter? Being prepared? Being in the right place at the right time?”

          “All of the above?” Newt snorted and still didn’t look back at him. He shook his head. “This has been one of the bloody worst days.”

          “I can see that. How’s your head?”

          Newt finally looked over at him to see Percival watching him, a tender expression on his face. He sighed and looked away again. “It aches. Honestly, it’s from stress and in the kerfluffle with Jacob, I think I forgot all about it.”

          There was a stillness from his companion, and Newt realized how utterly exhausted he was. For the first time in almost a week and a half, he didn’t feel like his skin was crawling. “I’ve just been having a bad time of it lately,” he confessed tiredly, running a hand over his face.

          “Is there anything I can do to help?”

          Newt shook his head again. He straightened his posture and looked out over the gray water and the ducks wandering about. The light was starting to fade, and he realized it was getting pretty late. “Thanks, but unless you can turn time back about three hours and stop me from acting an utter lunatic, then no. I’ve got to deal with the fallout, and just hope that Theseus doesn’t decide to be an overprotective arse and pull rank to have me finish my studies at home.”

          “C’mon, sweetheart,” Percival said, getting to his feet. “Let’s get you home. I can cook us up something for dinner and you can tell me all about it.”

          Blinking in surprise, Newt just stared at him for a long moment, eyes darting from his face to his outstretched hand. Finally, he took it and allowed the other man to pull him to his feet. “You don’t have to,” he started, but was interrupted by a gentle squeeze and a tug toward the pathway.

          “Of course, I don’t have to.” Percival gave him a moment to shoulder his backpack, then they were walking back toward the street that would lead them toward the complex. “And of course, you can say no. I just think it’d be a good way for you to let go of some of the stress that’s causing your headache. I’m not close to the situation, and I don’t know any of the players, so I’d be a good sounding board. Besides, I have a roast that’s been simmering in the crockpot since this morning and it sucks to not share it with someone.”

          Newt was silent until they were nearly home, then he said, “All right. Let me stop by my apartment first, I have to feed everyone. You can come in with me, if you’d like.”

*~*~*

          The second visit to Newt’s apartment was just as interesting as the first. Percival watched as the young man dropped his backpack onto the battered sofa and went directly to the kitchen pantry where he scooped kibble out for the cats that eagerly twined around his long legs, two of them meowing plaintively. The third sat back and watched his master fill his bowl while his siblings made asses out of themselves. Only when Newt reached down to scratch at his chin and ears did the tawny cat give any indication that he was happy to see him.

          “There’s a good boy, Swoop,” he heard Newt mutter. “Go on, get your nums. I’ll be back soon.” The cat sent a distrustful glare in Percival’s direction before casually sauntering over toward his bowl.

          A peek in at the ferret cage told him that Niff was happily snoozing in his tiny hammock, and his own food was filled. Newt disappeared into the bathroom for a moment and Percival could hear the rattle of a pill bottle before the redhead came back and detoured into the kitchen to pour a glass of water to down what he assumed were over the counter pain relievers.

          The other man certainly did look like he’d had a rough time of it lately. Auburn hair tousled and messy, face so pale it was almost translucent, freckles standing out in stark relief across his nose and cheekbones. There were dark circles under his golden-blue eyes and he looked like he might have actually lost a little weight since the last time Percival had seen him. He was shaky and looked like he was about to drop. A bit of anger mixed with his concern, and Percival really wanted to have a long, harsh talk with this Jacob person. Newt hadn’t come right out and said that he was dating anyone, but why else would he be so upset over having an argument with someone?

          When he’d come across the huddled figure in the park, his stomach had dropped when he’d realized it was Newt. Now, forgoing the usual casual chatter, he quietly took the cue and led them both down the hall and up one floor to his own apartment. The place was quiet and dark, even when he hit the switch for the lights. He’d done pretty well in getting everything unpacked, and the furniture was all brand new. When the divorce was finalized and the old house had sold, he’d just kept his clothing and personal items, leaving everything else to Seraphina to do what she wanted with it. The split had been amicable with no hard feelings on either side, but he hadn’t wanted to keep anything of their ten-year marriage that had started out lukewarm and had morphed into some sort of obligation for both of them.

          Between savings and his share of the sale, he had plenty of money to buy something else. But there was something about just staying in an apartment for a while. It was nice to not have that permanence, that… cage of responsibility. Not quite yet, he decided as he watched the young man he’d become just a little too interested in look around the apartment nervously. It was early, but he had a sinking feeling that if things progressed like he wanted them to, he’d be more than happy to take on that mantle again. Percival Graves wasn’t a man that did things halfway. Something that Sera hadn’t understood when he’d finally grown tired enough to explain when he had first approached the idea of them going their separate ways.

          “I have beer, wine, water, and some leftover hard cider. Or I could make some coffee,” he offered, gesturing to the bar stools that lined the edge of the counter separating the living room from the kitchen. Newt folded his long frame into the closest seat and picked at the sleeves of his worn sweater.

          “I’ll take beer if it’s dark, cider if it’s not,” Newt answered, his voice subdued. It was obvious that now he was here, he was unsure of how to proceed.

          Percival wasn’t sure what the Brit considered dark beer, so he fished out a cider and opened the bottle, sliding it across the granite. He held onto it even when Newt reached to take it. He waited for the flash of eyes before saying gently, “It’s okay to just take your time. You don’t even have to talk to me about it if you don’t want to. We can just hang out and have a meal. I can tell you about the cat stuck in its owner’s mailbox if it’d make you feel better? I nearly lost a hand on that one. Apparently, the beast was more than content in this locking monstrosity and didn’t appreciate being ‘rescued.’ I’m still trying to figure out how he managed to get in there; he was a good fifteen pounds of solid mass.”

          It earned him a bit of a smile, and Percival let go of the bottle and turned to open the pantry for a couple of baking potatoes to go with the roast. As he prepped the side dish with olive oil, garlic, and foil then stuffed them in the oven to bake, he recounted the encounter. He exaggerated only a little bit when he heard the tell-tale huff of laughter. When he glanced back, Newt had regained some of his color and he didn’t look quite as beat down as he had just a little bit ago.

          “Cats are remarkably flexible,” his guest murmured, and Percival took it as a good sign. He opened a new bottle of cider and slid it across the divider, taking the empty one back. He took a long pull of his own beer and leaned a hip against the edge of the counter.

          “This Jacob fellow, you guys known each other long?” It was supposed to be casual, almost joking, but there was a bit of an edge to his tone that he hadn’t intended. Newt deflated at the mention of the other man, his eyes filling up as he blinked rapidly. “Hey, hey, I didn’t mean to upset you. We still don’t have to talk about it.”

          Newt shook his head and turned the cider bottle in nervous circles between his fingers. “No, it’s all right. I do need to talk about it. I- I just don’t want… I like you, Percival. I’d much rather not… not let on how utterly cracked I am just yet. You’ll figure it out soon enough if you hang around for any length of time.”

          The sad defeat in his voice made something in Percival’s chest tighten. He set the timer for the potatoes and came around the divider, “Come on, let’s park it on the couch for a bit. The potatoes should take about a half hour to bake. It’s more comfortable in there. This was the fifth furniture set I tried out, and by far the most comfortable.”

          “My boys would have this shredded in a week.” Newt watched him take a seat, then sat down on the opposite end, following the example of sitting sideways with one knee up on the cushion. He still wouldn’t look at Percival’s face, and he was beginning to realize it was a character quirk instead of a full aversion to strangers.

          “Why do you think I’d not want to be around you once I got to know you,” Percival eased in, taking another sip of his beer. “Because so far, I’ve seen that you’re intelligent, caring, and an all around interesting person.”

          “I have a severe anxiety disorder with bouts of crippling depression,” Newt blurted after another long pause. He very carefully kept his eyes on the slate gray cushion between them. He spoke in a hushed, almost hurried voice, as if he knew that if he stopped, he’d clam up and not say anything at all. “I’m not suicidal, and I’m not manic depressive, which it took years for them to decide that I wasn’t. Nor am I bipolar, which is a relief. I’m high functioning, but it gets to be overwhelming and after a while people can’t handle being around me when it gets bad. Right now, I’m coming down from an anxiety spike. I haven’t been able to sleep more than just a couple hours a night, I’m jumpy and flinch at everything, and apparently I’m a total shit friend because I can’t communicate worth bullocks.”

          “And you had an argument with Jacob because he doesn’t understand?”

          Newt shook his head and looked even more miserable. Percival itched to reach over and take his hand, but he didn’t. Not yet. “When I first moved here, Jacob was my first friend and I helped him get his bakery started. I- when he and Queenie started dating, Theseus and Tina- Queenie’s sister and my other friend- were making jokes that we were a trio and saying things about third-wheels. It got me to thinking that maybe they _didn’t_ want me around all the time. They were new at dating, and I… I’m a nuisance at the best of times, and a menace at worst. Jacob and I were best friends because he’s a bit of an outcast too, so it worked out.”

          At the tidbit that he and this Jacob person weren’t dating, Percival felt his chest do a flip. That left him with a lot more room to operate. He listened as Newt finished telling him about quitting working the bakery and then pulling away, keeping his distance out of a misguided attempt to not be in the way. There was a growing feeling of protectiveness in Percival as he watched the lanky man across from him nearly fold into himself the longer he spoke. Someone, or many people in his life had hurt this man and shaped this twisted, shitty view of himself.

          “Had they ever said anything about not wanting you around?”

          Newt raised shining eyes to glance at his for just a brief moment, but it was enough. Percival set his beer down on the coffee table, plucked Newt’s out of his, and then pulled him in. The younger man fit in his arms better than he had imagined, and over the last couple months, he’d imagined it more than he should have. The moment he was enclosed and pulled close, Newt seemed to break apart, burying his face in the crook of Percival’s shoulder.

          He shifted on the couch and very slowly maneuvered the taller man into his lap, leaning his face in to inhale the clean, earthy scent of his hair. There were no words for a long time, just the shuddering breaths that Newt was too exhausted to keep back. When it seemed to slow, Newt just rested there for a long time while Percival tenderly stroked the curve of his spine.

          “I don’t know why I’m like this,” Newt murmured, almost too low for Percival to hear. “Maybe I should pack it up and go home.”

          “Hey now, I just got to meet you,” Percival told him with a gentle squeeze and forced levity, “Don’t be running off on me now.”

          Newt snorted and pulled away, wiping at his face with the edge of his sleeve. Red-rimmed eyes glanced at his face, then darted away. “It might be for the best, Percival. I’m not… I’m not a good friend. In the end…” His voice broke, and he covered his eyes with his fingers. “In the end, you’ll hate me, and I don’t want that.”

          “Listen,” Percival said in a low tone, taking Newt’s hand away from his face and holding it in a reassuring grip. “I was in a ten-year marriage with someone I didn’t even like by the time we ended it. I made a promise to myself after the papers were finally finished that I wouldn’t waste anymore time with situations that don’t fill something important. Day in and day out, waking up and going about my life with someone who barely tolerated the sight of me was a prison. I don’t hate her, even after finding out there was a string of lovers that started about two years in.”

          He paused and found himself mesmerized by the unique golden-blue eyes that were finally fixed directly on his. He cleared his throat and brought Newt’s fingers to his lips. “It hasn’t been that long, but I can’t imagine not seeing you again. The thought of it hurts, Newt. Can you trust me? Can you trust that I know what I want, and what’s worth pursuing?”

          “I don’t know you,” Newt sighed, but didn’t pull away. Percival took it as a good sign.

          “Then give me a chance. I won’t make any promises, and I won’t put any pressures on you. But this is the first time in a very long time that I’ve felt anything more than apathy toward someone in a potentially romantic way.”

          Newt’s face heated at his confession, and he opened his mouth to, no doubt argue, but was cut off by the oven timer. Percival pressed another kiss to his knuckles before standing up to tend to their dinner. They fell into silence as they filled plates and took their seats at the dining room table.

          “All right,” Newt said after several long minutes. His voice was almost inaudible, but Percival froze with a hopeful swell. He cleared his throat again and said, a bit louder, “Queenie is always telling me to let other people make up their own minds about how to feel about me. I got a long lecture from her not too long ago, scolding me for assigning emotions and motivations to people before they even had a chance to prove me wrong.”

          “She sounds like a smart woman.”

          Newt’s lips curved up in a half-smile. “She is. It just took me a long time to understand what she meant. Just do me a favor, yeah?”

          “Sure.”

          “If I get to be too much, tell me. Don’t just let it slide until you can’t stand me anymore. I- I don’t want to… I’m not…” He floundered for words, and Percival put down his silverware. He came around to Newt’s side of the table and gently eased the other man’s chair over. He cupped his hands under the curve of Newt’s jawline and waited for the flutter of eyelids before pressing their lips together in a firm, but sweet line.

          “I promise,” Percival whispered, and smiled when he felt Newt’s hands on his hips.

 

*~*~*


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's about time that I do an update on *something*. :D I've been a bit blocked on my writing, and the attempt at dabbling in a different fandom fell flat in a spectacular and bloody nosedive. So... I decided to come back to where I know I'm good. Lol, I'll try again later. But for now, this story was tugging at me to give it a bit more. So, here we are. LMK what you guys think! This is super short, but I wanted to get out what I had before it got left behind again. I'm hoping to encourage myself to get back into writing more frequently.

*~*~*

          The doorbell rang, just like he’d thought it would. Newt sighed and gave Pickett one more gentle nuzzle before setting the cat down on the coffee table. As much as he’d like to hide away and not see anyone, he figured it was time to speak with his friends. They were worried about him, he knew, and he knew he shouldn’t feel so out of place. They were his friends. They weren’t going to turn on him because he had a bad day.

          When he opened his door, he wasn’t surprised at all to see Jacob, Queenie, and Tina all crowded on the welcome mat. He felt like he might throw up. They were looking at him with worried smiles and Tina looked like she wanted to melt into the floor, dark eyes bright with guilt. So, she’d figured it out. He stepped back out of the way and opened the door for them to come in.

          “I’ll make the coffee, doll,” Queenie told him, going directly for the kitchen carrying the cloth shopping bag she’d brought with her. Amid the sounds of her running water into the kettle, Jacob turned to him and opened his arms. Newt didn’t even hesitate before stepping into the hug. He felt emotion well up and tried to hold back the tears that were humiliatingly close to the surface. He was an utter wreck.

          “I’m sorry,” he murmured when they finally let go and Tina pulled him in for her turn. He buried his face into her hair and sighed. He felt like such an ass. How could he have thought that they didn’t want him around?

          “Hey, none of that,” Tina admonished gently when she let him go after a long moment. “I’m the one that should be sorry, Newt. I didn’t realize I was being so horrible. I thought you knew I was joking.”

          His face burned and he stared at the ground, unable to look at her. “I know you were joking. Now. But then, I couldn’t help but think that you were right. I can’t shut it off, Tina. There’s two parts to my psyche. One says that I’m being stupid and there’s no way you guys are really fed up with me being around, that there’s teasing and it’s a normal part of having friendships. The other says that I _am_ annoying and pushy and around too much. That second voice is louder most of the time, and I don’t say anything because that would prove that I’m the clingy friend asking for attention that you guys are tired of giving.”

          “Breathe, honey,” Queenie reminded him, coming in to tug him into her own soft, sweet-smelling embrace. “This kind of thing happens, and it sucks. The lies our mind tells us are the most horrible lies ever. It’s a never-ending cycle.”

          “I missed you guys,” Newt said, and his voice wobbled a little. He cleared his throat and gestured to the cats twining around their feet. “These furry berks missed you too.”

          Queenie cooed and picked up Swoop, who looked at Newt like, ‘really, mate?’ but allowed the blonde a momentary snuggle before squirming to be let down. Pickett was happily purring in Tina’s arms, but Frank wasn’t having any of it. He gave Jacob the evil eye as he slunk back toward the cat tree Newt had set up, giving them a nice view of his backside.

          Jacob snorted a chuckle and said, “Well, that’s how he feels about that, huh?”

          Tension broken, they moved into the kitchen to prepare their drinks of choice; Newt and Queenie the new spiced black tea she’d brought with her, and Tina and Jacob the coffee she’d brewed with the French press. Taking plates of the scones and pastries Jacob had brought from the bakery, they settled in to the living room to talk.

          “Really, I want you to come back to work at the bakery,” Jacob said after nearly an hour of hashing out hurt feelings and buried emotions. “It’s just not the same without you there, man. I really need you, and you can’t lie to me and say you’re really happy at that shitty place. They’re rude to you and their coffee selection stinks. I can manage to pay you better, and business is booming enough to add you to the health insurance deal. I’ve got me, Queenie, and Credence all on it now. The more people I get signed up, the more money I save. It’s like, you can have double health coverage, so you can get stitches if you need them, or have someone check you over for say… a damn concussion.”

           At the last, his friend narrowed his eyes meaningfully at the still healing cut on his forehead. Newt felt his face flushing again, not just at the reminder of how he’d buggered up the best job he’d ever had, but at the reminder of Percival and the newness of whatever it was they were headed toward. The older man had been hanging around more and more, coming around to watch movies or invite him for dinner at his place. They’d gone to the theater a couple of times, once to a stage production by a local actor’s guild that Newt liked to follow. It had been… nice. More than nice, if he was honest.

          Jacob was just opening his mouth to tease- or maybe argue another point in favor of Newt coming back to work for him, when there was a jaunty knock on his door. _Oh, God._ He felt his stomach drop, then leap back up into his throat. He didn’t know if he was ready for his friends to meet Percival. He hadn’t even mentioned him to them. There had been too much other stuff to discuss, that the state of his newly discovered love life had been completely forgotten.

          Tina jumped to her feet and was halfway to the door before Newt realized that she intended to open the door. He leapt to his feet and had almost intercepted her when she twisted the knob to jerk the door open to reveal Percival, holding a cat carrier and grinning sheepishly. That grin dropped off when Tina cocked her head to the side and said, “Graves?”

          “Goldstein.” To his credit, Percival recovered quickly, dark eyes darting over her head to look at Newt, who looked like he was seconds from a panic. He took in the other two in the room, Jacob in the armchair clutching a mug of coffee, and Queenie perched on the arm, grinning ear-to-ear as she put it together with frightening speed. There was a split second where he fought the urge to step back and retreat, obviously Newt wasn’t quite ready to introduce them. But then there was a moment of understanding when he saw the tremble of those clever hands. If he retreated now, he might as well not come back.

         “Hey, sweetheart,” he took a risk and grinned at Newt, watching the color rush back to the other man’s face. “I take it you guys are finally talking it out?”

          Newt’s mouth opened and closed a couple times before he nodded and glanced down at the floor, then back up. His smile was sweet and grateful as Percival stepped inside the apartment, forcing Tina to step back to let him in. Queenie clapped her hands together in girlish delight and stood up to go into the kitchen.

          “Hey, Mr. Graves,” she valiantly tried for nonchalance, but the gleeful undercurrent still made it through. “Coffee black with one sugar?”

          “That’d be great, Queenie,” he replied, not even trying to hold back his bemusement. Of course, he should have put it together sooner. He thought back to the times that Newt had mentioned his friend Tina and her sister, Queenie. How many sibling combinations could there be with those particular names? Queenie certainly wasn’t a common name, and then you put a boyfriend named Jacob that just happened to own a bakery… Percy was a bit disappointed in himself for not figuring it out. He blamed his infatuation with the young veterinary student for the oversight.

          He cupped Newt’s chin with his fingers and gently pressed a kiss to his lips before grinning and holding up the carrier, knowing the exact method of bringing him out of his momentary awkward frozenness. “I brought you someone to look at. I found her- I think it’s a her- hanging about around the dumpsters. She’s really docile and it seems like she’s been declawed and living rough for a while.”

          True to form, Newt immediately forgot all about how uncomfortable this entire meeting was and took the small cage, peering into it pensively. “Oh, what a darling. Thank you, Percy,” he murmured, flashing a heart-melting smile up at him. “She looks right frightened. Let me go get her settled in the bedroom and get a good look. I’ll be right back.”

          When Newt disappeared into the bedroom, muttering soothing sounds at the terrified feline, Percival looked over the three people he knew he needed to impress if he wanted any sort of relationship with Newt. They were his family, and they were important. It was both a blessing and a curse that he knew Tina- being the senior partner showing her the ropes in the homicide division of the NYPD. Her dark eyes were narrowed at him and her arms were crossed in a bad sign that she wasn’t entirely on board with her boss dating her friend.

          Jacob was looking intrigued, but not exactly angry or worried. Queenie’s reaction assured him that it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, at least for now.

          “How long have you guys…” Tina waved a hand instead of finishing the question, her eyebrows somewhere in her hairline.

          “Been dating?” Percival took the cup of coffee Queenie offered with a nodded thank you. “Two weeks? I patched him up when he ran into my mailbox and was lucky enough to convince him to give me a shot.”

          “ _That’s_ what happened to his head,” Jacob blurted, shaking his head. “I never know if he’s just blowing over what really happened, or not.”

          “He gets hurt like that a lot,” Percival asked, a little alarmed.

           “He gets banged up some with the animals he looks after,” Queenie offered, retaking her seat on the arm of Jacob’s chair. “And there’s a few jerks that push him around on campus. He doesn’t know we know about that, though.”

           “What?” Tina looked a mix between angry and guilty. “When did this happen? And how do you know about it when I don’t? Why didn’t you say anything?”

           “B’cause if he doesn’t actually say anything about it, how are we supposed to know for sure. You know how Newt is.”

            “You know how I am with what,” Newt asked, coming out of the bedroom, cradling a small black cat wrapped in a towel, obviously fresh out of a bath. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the front thighs of his jeans were wet. “This little one’s been through a rough time of it, but she’ll do just fine after a few good meals and some love. Nothing major to report, other than malnutrition and a shitty previous owner. Why they still allow declawing is beyond me. It’s a terrible practice that does far more bad than good.”

            Tina eyed him, her arms crossed as she demanded, “Why didn’t you say that you were getting harassed at school?”

            Newt looked confused, glancing between the four of them before it sunk in. “What does that have to do with anything,” he asked, neatly avoiding by walking into the kitchen and the pantry to fetch a bowl for kibble and water.

           “It’s important, Newt. You can’t just let-,” Tina cut herself off when Percival sent her a quelling look.

           He went into the kitchen to help with the cat, reaching out slowly to rub a finger over her head. She meowed plaintively, as if telling him about the bath, then tucked into the meal with a heartbreaking speed.

           “So, what do you want to name her,” Newt asked, busying himself with washing out the single water glass in the sink. He was avoiding, and Percival sighed, coming up behind him to settle his hands on his hips. “She’s chosen you as her new person, so she needs a name.”

           “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want,” Percival said, quiet enough that no one else could hear him. Newt went very still and nearly dropped the glass. “No one’s mad, and no one’s gonna push.”

           “It’s not important.” Newt’s voice was barely above a whisper, his shoulders tense as he added, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

           “All right then. We don’t talk about it,” Percival agreed, then pressed a kiss to his cheek, backing away to look at the cat, who was now drinking water in rapid laps of her tongue. “How about we discuss this idea of me having a cat now, and why you think it’s a good idea. Convince me, Dr. Scamander.”

           Newt stared at him for a long moment, as if distrusting his ruse of backing away from the touchy subject of his campus bullies. Then a slow, appreciative smile crossed his lips. “Thank you.”

           Then he launched into his argument for Percival to take the new rescue as his own, with his friends listening in from the living room, a bit disbelieving at what they’d just witnessed. After a few minutes, Jacob jumped in with an observation, and Queenie nodded her agreement. It devolved into an easy banter, even Tina relaxing into the flow of conversation. It ended with Percival agreeing to take the newly dubbed, ‘Fiona’, as his new housecat. He hadn’t had an animal since he was a boy, and that hadn’t lasted long with his mother’s allergies. It wasn’t easy to say no to Newt, especially when he brought up some really good points.

          She was declawed, and despite it being an evil, inhumane practice that should be outlawed, it meant that she wouldn’t shred his nice furniture. She’d already bonded with him, considering she was currently curled up against Percival’s chest, purring so loudly Pickett was looking on with jealous yellow eyes and a ticking tail, and he really did need someone to fill the emptiness of his apartment when he wasn’t working. Cats were the perfect roommates, after all.

          Percival didn’t say that he’d much rather come home to _Newt_ instead of a housecat. That was a conversation best left for a while longer, no matter how telling the knowing looks Queenie was throwing him when Newt wasn’t paying attention.

 

*~*~*


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I had to add Grindlewald after seeing the latest movie. :) There'll be more tags added as I work through plot points, and this fic has potential to go pretty dark in places... cause it's me and that's what I do. Anyone else up for a serial killer Grindlewald? I'm totally into true crime and I think all the podcasts are starting to get to me. Thank all of you for your support and helping me to remember that I'm not a terrible writer with an inability to keep true to the characters. LOTSA LOVES! That said, this is another short chapter, but I'm running out of time to get it out before work.

 

*~*~*

          “Mr. Scamander, I need you to stay after, please.”

          Newt froze, his notebook halfway into his battered backpack when he heard the professor’s voice ring through the classroom after he’d dismissed the rest of the class. His eyes darted as he tried to remember if he’d done anything out of line. He hadn’t spoken out of turn, his essay had been handed in when requested, and lab day wasn’t until tomorrow. His lab partner, a tall woman in her early forties that had come back to finish a long-abandoned science degree, hadn’t complained about him yet. That he knew of, of course.

          Maybe that was it. Maybe he was going to be on his own, without a partner. No one else seemed to want to be partnered with him, despite his knowledge and neatness. He’d overheard one of the other students complain that it was _because_ he was so ordered that they hated working with him. _“It’s just not natural to be so fucking clean about it all. OCD much? And dude, when he gets started on something, he just won’t shut up. I can’t get a word in. And he knows_ fucking everything _, like, seriously, I can’t learn anything if he’s always popping up with the answers all the time.”_

          Newt didn’t really want to work with a partner anyway. They were distracting and noisy, they couldn’t shut up about the inane details of their personal life outside the classroom, and some of them were entirely too handsy for his taste. But still, he’d figured that Ginger wouldn’t have… that they actually seemed to work well together. Well, that didn’t matter much now, did it?

          He tried not to slump as he made his way to Professor Grindlewald’s desk. His thoughts went to Percival and their plans for the night, softening the stewing ball of anxiety starting to churn in his belly. They were hitting up a concert at the zoo, one of the more popular events that Newt didn’t mind braving the crowds for. His… boyfriend? Maybe not, but maybe? Internally, he paused, hung up on exactly how to categorize his budding relationship with his neighbor. Lover was too soon and just sounded silly. Partner was equally premature but sounded better than boyfriend. The man he was dating was clunky and didn’t sound right in his head.

 _Percival_. His Percival was coming to pick him up after his last class. There, that sounded better. He glanced up at his professor and saw the other man’s mouth twitching up into an indulgent smile, an odd chill rolling down his spine at the uncomfortable familiarity. He readjusted his gaze to somewhere around Professor Grindlewald’s collar and muttered, “You needed to see me?”

          Gellert Grindlewald came around the side of the desk and leaned against the edge, his arms crossed over his chest casually. There was a too-nonchalant concern to his tone that Newt felt rang a little off when he asked, “How are you doing, Newt?”

         Newt blinked and shrugged, wondering where this was headed. He glanced up at the other man’s face, then back down to his collar. “Fine, Professor.”

         “I’ve noticed you’ve been a bit off these last few classes, a little jumpier than usual. Is everything going all right at home? You’re remembering to take a rest now and then, right?”

         Newt felt his face warm and he fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt, twisting the button between his fingers. “I-I’ve just… it’s been… complicated.” He could have smacked himself. Communication under these circumstances was never his strong suit and he really didn’t want to go into any of the personal drama he’d worked himself into. His teacher didn’t need to know about his mental illness; that was a topic he didn’t want to cover with _anyone._

        “I-it’s been handled,” he rushed to assure the blond, trying a wry smile that was too nervous to be authentic. “So, you don’t… so you d-don’t have to worry. I’m fine now. Better than fine, actually.” Again, he was thinking of Percival, their developing relationship a steadying balm. He could feel the flush coming up into his face and inwardly cursed, trying desperately to find the words to get him out of there sooner. His biophysics professor made him uneasy on a good day but having the man so close to him and feeling the full brunt of his intense focus directed at him, was making Newt want to bolt.

         “You want to go into private practice when you’re done with your degree, right?”

         Newt frowned and looked up into mismatched eyes, locking gazes for a surprised moment. There was amusement reflected back at him and there was a notable mocking twist to his smile. Newt nodded, stomach sinking as he anticipated what was coming next. Why was it that people had to reiterate the same statements over and over again? Was there any sort of originality anymore? _Are you sure you want to go into such a… contact heavy area, Newt? You do know that you would have to deal with humans in a private practice, right? That means you have to get over this little anxiety problem you have and maybe try some eye contact while you’re at it. What’s that, Newt? Oh, you think you could just hire receptionists to take care of the day to day pet-owner interaction? That’s sweet._

         He was so wrapped up in anticipating what his professor was going to say, Newt almost missed what he actually said.

         “I think you’d do great. You’ve shown an amazing aptitude for learning the sciences, and I’ve seen how you interact with Ms. Hanover during labs,” his professor said, without an ounce of the mocking severity Newt had been expecting. “You and she play off each other really well, and the communication lines open right up when you’re comfortable.”

         Professor Grindelwald hesitated, and Newt waited for the other shoe to drop. Gods, he just wanted to get out of there. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to end his last class of the week. Percival was waiting for him. “Listen, this is a bit forward, so forgive me, but I would love to take you out for coffee sometime soon to discuss methods of overcoming that shyness. I think you have brilliant potential, Newt. I think you just need some help with learning how to personally interact with people.”

         Newt blinked, not quite knowing how to process the proposition. His hands clenched on the strap of his backpack and he could feel his heart at the back of his throat. Was his professor asking him out for a coffee date? Or was he just being friendly? What if he said no, that he was just fine learning that bit on his own, thank-you-very-much? Professor Grindlewald wasn’t really known for his patience or his humanitarian ways.

         “I- I really have a full schedule right n-now, Professor,” Newt stammered, trying to work his way around flat out refusing. “I just went back to work a-at the bakery and I-.”

         There was a knock on the door, interrupting the rather painful flow of words. Newt gratefully took a step back and nearly melted with relief when he saw Percival come through the door.

         “There you are,” the detective grinned at him, coming down the middle aisle toward the pair, dressed in jeans and a black t-shirt under a black leather jacket. His dark eyes went from Newt to the teacher and back again, accurately reading the uncomfortable situation in seconds. “Sorry if I’m barging in. I ran into Queenie near the commons and she pointed me here.”

         “I-It’s fine.” Newt cleared his throat and took another step back from the professor, more toward where Percival was walking up the steps to the teaching podium. “We were done here, I th-think? Is there anything else you needed to speak to me about?”

          Grindlewald was quiet for so long, Newt thought he wasn’t going to answer, then his smile slowly widened, and he broke the tension by standing up straight, shaking his head. “No, we’re done.” He reached out his hand for Percival’s, “I’m Professor Grindlewald. We were just talking about getting our Newt here some socializing practice.”

          “Really,” Percival said politely, squeezing the other man’s hand a bit too hard. “I don’t think Newt really needs the help, but it was kind of you to reach out. We’re just about to head out for dinner and a concert.”

          He turned to Newt and reached out to take his backpack, slinging it over his own shoulder. “Do you need to stop by home for anything? There’s this barbeque place out by the zoo that I thought we could try if you like.”

          Newt nodded, not really able to mask his growing relief. “A stop home would be good,” he said, glancing down at his torn jeans and ratty t-shirt. He hadn’t had much time to put a lot of thought into his attire this morning and it would be good to change into something a bit neater. “The boys need their kibble.”

         “Well,” the professor drawled, moving around his desk to start gathering papers. “You crazy kids have fun. Newt, the invitation for coffee stands, if you ever change your mind.”

          “Thank you,” Newt muttered politely, then took Percival’s offered hand and left the classroom feeling almost light headed.

           They didn’t speak until they were next to Percival’s car and Newt’s backpack was stowed in the backseat.

           “Thank you,” Newt repeated, then pulled Percival closer and nervously pressed their mouths together. He shivered when one large hand rested on his hip and the other curled up behind his neck to keep him from pulling away. The kiss deepened, and he felt all of the tension draining away as he was pulled into the warm safety of the contact.

           When they did break apart, Percival rested his forehead against Newt’s and took in a shaky breath. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

           Newt huffed a laugh and kissed him again, pressing closer so that the line of their bodies were flush. When he pulled away the next time, he said, “You have this habit of coming to the rescue just when I need you the most.”

           “It comes with the name, I think,” Percival said lightly, but his eyes were intense as he looked over Newt’s face for any lingering upset. “Is that professor usually that creepy, or did he just now pull that card?”

           Newt pulled back at the mention of the situation he’d just narrowly escaped. His face reddened, and he sighed. “He’s always been a bit scary. I think most professors are, to be honest. He teaches advanced sciences, so add a few degrees to the intensity. This is the first time he’s singled me out, though.”

           “C’mon,” Percival said after another pause and brief kiss. “Let’s get you home for a change and then go eat. I’m starving.”

           He didn’t let on how much the entire deal unsettled him, not wanting to upset Newt any more than he already was. Percival made a mental note to look into this Professor Grindlewald when he was back home on his own. He had the entire weekend to suss out if the other man was a real threat, or just a creep.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays! I have a small margin of time to get this out before I go to work, so I hope there's not a ton of errors :) Love you guys, and thank you, thank you, thank you for all the epic support you've given me on this fic! I hope I don't disappoint.

*~*~*

          Newt was hiding in the back room, waiting for his manager to leave for the day so he didn’t have to deal with the aggressive glares and insinuations that he should just leave without serving the rest of his notice. At the moment, he didn’t know why he was sticking it out. Maybe a bit of stubbornness? It sure wasn’t because he enjoyed working there, and it wasn’t as if it would hurt his prospects working for Jacob.

          The nasty woman had already cut his hours down to two or three a night, just enough to muck with his schedule and not enough to actually earn him anything. There had been one awkward argument where he’d had to explain that he had class on Thursdays at two-thirty and couldn’t be on the clock. _That_ hadn’t been pleasant, and he’d ended up getting sent home with an irrational scolding ringing in his ears.

         He had a headache from all the static he was getting, from her and the other people he shared the floor with. They’d never been too nice, making snide comments when he wasn’t quite out of earshot, and going as far as to sabotage the orders he was responsible for. If a customer had a sandwich and a coffee, they would switch it out for something completely different while Newt’s back was turned making the coffee. Or they’d quickly add another oddball flavor to the coffee if he had to go to the back for something else. As a result, he’d been shouted at and berated before he’d caught on and started making paranoid precautions.

          “Hey, man, it’s all clear.” The only saving grace to the entire deal was the only coworker he got on with, a fellow student and the last person he ever thought would be cool with him. Tim was a short, stocky Irishman, built like a rugby player and with a don’t-fuck-with-me attitude and edgy punk style that had resulted in him being rather safe from their coworker’s bullshit. He was the first generation of his family born in the states, his parents having immigrated two years before he was born. He looked out for Newt just like he looked out for his siblings, with an almost manic disposition that reminded Newt of Theseus. If he noticed anything out of line, he spoke up and called them out on it. Ever since Newt had turned in his notice, even that marginal protection had been nulled.

          “Two more shifts,” Newt sighed, rubbing at his aching eyes. “Two more shifts, then I’m clear and I never have to see those bloody harpies again.”

          “Diva is still out there, working the register, but the other two’ve bailed for the night. C’mon, let’s get into some mischief now that the queen bitch is out.”

            “I don’t want you to get in trouble too, Tim,” Newt said wearily, though the other man’s ever cheerful nature was working its magic already. “All of this feels like we’re in primary school all over again.”

            “It kinda does, doesn’t it?” Tim’s face crinkled in a wicked grin. “Let’s go be naughty, then.”

            Newt rolled his eyes but retied his apron and followed his friend out into the main floor of the store/café. As they passed the stereo system, Tim casually pressed a pre-set button and flicked the volume up, replacing the pop music with paddy-punk and bagpipes. It was his ‘I’m being obnoxious but not offensive’ music station that he played to irritate the snot out of their more mainstream coworkers. Newt wasn’t necessarily a fan of the bagpipes on their own; any kind of droning pitch was enough to set his skin on edge. But he hated the grinding beat of the pop music normally playing over the speakers, so it was a toss up on what was worse. Right now, he just went with it, enjoying the petty satisfaction he gained by seeing one of his bullies glare and snarl at them as they passed by.

           Tim sent her a jaunty little wave as they passed. “Ta, princess. We’re gonna do some shelving.”

           Thirty minutes later, Newt found himself really enjoying the back and forth banter with Tim. His fellow student was making inappropriate comments about the books they were stocking, sending the two of them into peals of laughter. The door chimed, the first time since he’d come out of the back, and he dimly heard the dreaded tones of his manager, who had forgotten something in the back room. The music was cut abruptly, and after a tense moment of silence, was replaced by what Newt thought of as ‘new age spa music’. Honestly, he liked it much better than the previous options, but it meant he and Tim were about to be roasted over the coals.

          Tim rolled his eyes and flashed Newt another wicked grin. “Don’t worry, buddy. I’ve got this.”

          There was another chime from the door, almost drowned out by the rushing in Newts ears as he anticipated the incoming confrontation. Amelia came around the corner, eyes snapping as they laid on Newt and Tim.

          “How many times have I told you that the music has to be set at channel nine, or nothing?”

          Newt didn’t point out that it wasn’t usually set at that channel, even when she was there, and _he_ didn’t touch the radio at all. She wouldn’t listen to him anyway. Her mouth was opening to spit fire again, but another voice cut in, making Newt look over her shoulder with wide eyes.

          “Hey, Newt,” Percival winked at him from over Amelia’s shoulder. “I was wondering if you could help me with something?”

          Amelia narrowed her eyes over at the police detective, still dressed sharply for work. Newt felt his face heat up at the elbow nudge Tim aimed at his ribs. Percival looked very well put together in a classic black suit and tie, tailored to fit him like a glove, his long coat unbuttoned over it all. Seeing him like that never failed to put a skip in Newt’s chest, and a warmth in his belly. He’d never had anyone quite like Percy in his life, so full of contradictions and layers. The man was just as much at home in a suit and tie as he was in jeans and a t-shirt.

          “I’m sorry, but he no longer works here,” Amelia snapped. “If you need help, ask at the front counter, I’m sure Diva will be able to direct you to what you need.”

           If anything, Percival’s smile grew into a full-out grin. “Good, this way I don’t have to work to convince him to abandon his over-developed sense of responsibility. This isn’t the right kind of place for anyone to work, and I know he has better things to do with his time.”

           Tim was outright laughing at this point. “I like your style, man.” He tugged at the apron strings at the back of Newt’s waist, then at his own. “You know what, I think I’ve had enough too. I’ve had my eye on a few different jobs, all of which have much less bullshit involved. Buy you guys a beer?”

           “Tim, it’s six-thirty.” Newt wasn’t quite up to speed just yet, his mind stuck on the events of the last few minutes. It was all he could come up with.

           “And?” Tim was manhandling Newt’s apron over his head and throwing it at Amelia’s midsection. “You said you don’t have class until noon tomorrow, right?”

          “Right, but…”

          “C’mon, sweetheart. I’m off for the night, unless we get a call, and a beer sounds really good.” Amelia’s eyes got even wider as Percival took Newt’s hand to pull him through the shelves, Tim bringing up the rear.

          Tim spouted something about meeting them outside and went into the back to gather their things, knowing that Newt wasn’t really in the mind to remember or care that his coat was in his locker. Once outside, Percival pulled Newt into his arms and pressed a kiss to his temple.

          “Did that just happen?”

           “I’m happy to say it did,” Percival told him and pulled back, tipping Newt’s chin up with his fingers so that the young man had to look at him. “You don’t have to be here and put up with that abuse, babe. You already have a job waiting at Kowalski’s, and it doesn’t sound like you were making that much anyway. They were just doing what they could to make you miserable.”

           “How did you-?” Newt started to ask, but sighed when Percival just gave him a look. “Tina. But, I don’t ever tell her either!”

           “The people who love you pay attention.” Percival kissed him, a gentle press of lips. “We know when something’s up, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that these pieces of crap are the source of it.”

           Newt froze, his mind locking onto the first part of what Percival said. _“The people who love you pay attention.”_

           Tim came out and held out Newt’s coat and a bag of cookies, the grin on his face telling them that he had no problems at all walking out on the job. The moment was broken, but Newt’s grip on Percival’s hand as they walked to the pub on the corner was tight as his mind ran circles around that one careless statement. Did he mean it? Was it a slip, or deliberate?

           When they took a table at the back, Tim’s fingers flying over his phone to text his roommate and girlfriend to come meet them there, Percival whispered against Newt’s ear, “I did mean it, and if you don’t feel the same, it’s okay. I’m patient.”

           The redhead shivered and didn’t answer, he just laced his fingers through Percival’s and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

 

*~*~*

 

          “We’ve got one for ya, Graves. You and Goldstein need to get out here, pronto.” Percival bit off a curse and relayed a response, writing down the address.

          “We gotta go,” he said, gathering his jacket and car keys, Tina right behind him as she eagerly stuffed her arms into her coat. The morning had started out easy enough, slogging through the paperwork hell that made up a good chunk of their downtime. Tina had been a little quiet around him since she’d found out he was dating her friend, not quite sure how it was going to impact their working relationship. Percival had finally thrown a wadded-up paper ball at her head, staring at her when she blinked in shock as it hit her right in the forehead.

          “Is this gonna be weird, Goldstein?” His question had caught her off guard but had done the trick as she laughed and shook her head. “I’m not going to hurt him, you know.”

          “I know,” she had sighed, looking back down to her desk. “I… listen, he’s like a part of my family. I was weird with Jacob too, and he’s a marshmallow. Newt… Newt is special, Graves.”

          “I know,” Percival echoed her words back at her seriously. His grin was crooked, and he could almost imagine the sappy light in his expression as he thought of the man who had somehow made his way into Percival’s life. “He’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time. I won’t be fucking it up anytime soon, at least not on purpose.”

          That had seemed to right whatever had gone awkward, and they’d gone back to normal. Now, they chatted idly as they made their way out to the car in the cold, early morning. Tina asked, “What’s the address again? It sounds familiar.”

          Percival rattled it off from the notepad and said, “It’s out by the college.” He froze and as if by an unsaid agreement, he and Tina hastened their steps.

          Newt and Queenie both had early classes that morning, which was why they were in the office so early. Tina, because her sister was impossibly loud getting ready in the morning, and she was a light sleeper; by the time her sister was ready to go, Tina had given up and offered her a ride. Percival, because he’d been a sappy bastard and surprised the budding veterinarian at his door with a to-go cup of tea and a ride to school. He’d stretched the truth a little and said that he needed to get a jump start on his paperwork before everyone else came in.

          The truth of it was that Newt had to be one of the most adorable things in the world first thing in the morning, and Percival hadn’t been able to resist the opportunity. They still hadn’t taken things far enough to sleep over, but he was counting the days until he could wake up wrapped around him, warm and soft with sleep. It was worth it to go as slowly as Newt needed, even though Percival knew exactly what, and who, he wanted.

          Now, though, there was a sick feeling in his stomach that told him things were about to get much more complicated.

*~*~*

          The moment they came around the corner and took in the crime scene, Percival felt that sick feeling blossom into full dread. The medical examiner was still hunched over the body, forensics combing through the bushes and pavers around the fountain. The pair of uniforms that had called them in were standing off to the side, talking to a distraught middle-aged woman.

          Percival nodded his head toward the uniforms, indicating that Tina should take that route while he went to speak with the ME. The naked form on the ground was tall and lanky, with pale white skin that had slowly turned a white, grayish purple through the hours it had lain there.

          “Hey, Graves,” Dr. Samuel Holland greeted him with a grim half-smile. “We’ve gotta quit meeting like this.”

          “Job security, I guess,” Graves responded automatically, trying not to let the rising emotion show in his voice. The man was face-down, the auburn mess of hair matted with blood that had seeped out from a heavy blow to the back of the head. It wasn’t Newt, his mind told him dimly, even though he couldn’t see the young man’s face. It wasn’t Newt. The shoulders were too narrow, the legs too short, hair just an inch or two too long.

          “I’m putting the time of death somewhere in the last forty-eight hours, leaning toward the earlier of that option. We’ll know more when I can get him on my table. He wasn’t killed here, obviously,” Dr. Holland was explaining, and Percival watched as the older man lifted a lightly muscled arm to indicate bloodless cuts up and down the forearm. “You got here just as I was about to roll him over.”

          Even though there was no way this was Newt, Percival still felt a little weak when the face staring back up at him was a stranger. The eyes that dominated the angular face were an ordinary hazel-brown, not blue-gold, and the jawline was all wrong. The delicacy to his features was a bit too pronounced, but there was enough of a resemblance to make him very uncomfortable. The chest cavity had been pried open, exposing splintered ribs, lungs, and an empty spot where the heart should have been.

          “Well,” Dr. Holland huffed, “We haven’t seen something this deliberate in a while.”

          There was a horrified gasp from beside him, and Percival turned just in time to grab Tina’s arm when she wobbled unsteadily. “It’s not him, Goldstein,” he assured her, knowing exactly where his partner’s mind had gone. “It’s not him. I dropped him off for classes this morning, and this poor soul was killed sometime well before then.”

          “God,” Tina whispered, looking like she was going to be sick. “Oh, God. It-… I don’t think I can-.”

          “C’mon, let’s go over here for a minute.” He guided her out of the scene and off to the side, setting them both on a bench a good ten feet away. “Listen, you… _we_ have to keep it together on this. Just because it looks like Newt doesn’t mean anything at this point. New York is a big city, and this is a big campus. We’ve been trained not to jump to conclusions.”

          “But-” Tina looked incredibly pale, her eyes turning to look at where the ME and his assistant were loading up the cadaver to take into the morgue.

          “Do you want to hand this over to someone else,” Percival asked bluntly, knowing what she was going to say.

“No! What if there is a connection? What if there’s another one come up? I want to work this and clear it so I don’t have to worry about letting Newt out of my sight.”  

          “Then you have to keep it together. If Branson gets wind of any sort of personal connection, we’ll be reassigned.”

          Tina firmed her lips and nodded, getting to her feet and straightening out the cuffs of her jacket. “You’re right. Let me text Queenie and Newt to make sure they’re all right, then I’ll be over to help.”

          “You text Queenie, I’ll take Newt.” Percival was already pulling out his phone, fingers pulling up the chat box that was already lit up with an unread text from Newt.

          _Thinking of you : ) My second class was canceled because of police activity over in that area of campus. I think I’m going to go home for a while. Would you want to meet up for lunch? I don’t have to go back until two._

          Percival closed his eyes briefly in relief and waited for his hand to stop trembling before he tapped out a response.

_Sounds good. Meet at your place at 12:30? Busy day, but I can always make time for you._

          “Newt’s good. Second class was canceled because of this fuckery and he’s headed home.”

His phone chimed again, and he smiled before tucking it back into his pocket. _Perfect. I’ll have lunch ready for when you get here. Stay safe._

          “Same for Queenie. Should I have her go and hang out with Newt?” Tina was still hovering with her phone, fingers poised.

“Nah, he’s probably looking forward to the downtime. I’m meeting him for lunch.” Percival was already headed back toward the officers that had taken the call, wanting to get back into the investigation. The quicker they closed this, the quicker they could put it out of their minds.

 

*~*~*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Newt told Grindlewald that he'd already started at the bakery, but he panicked in the moment and blurted out the first thing he could think of. :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, stars, I am so sorry this took so long to update!! The last month has been suuuper crazy, between starting new meds, getting the flu-plague that lasted for nearly three weeks, and an ulcer flare-up, I haven't been in the right spot to continue on any of my works-in-progress. Thank you to everyone still following this, you're amazing and beautiful. Hopefully this continues to be what y'all are looking for. Lots and lots of love, and as always, feedback is welcomed with open arms and big smiles.

 

*~*~*

          By the time Newt opened the door to Percival about fifteen minutes early, the detective was more than ready to fold him up and never let him go. The similarities between the murdered student and Newt were piling up one after another and it was beginning to look less and less like a coincidence. There wasn’t any proof of it just yet, and it was too soon in the investigation for him and Tina to even bring it up outside of their own conversations. Honed instincts and experience were telling them that the more they dug into this, the scarier it would become. The worst of it was, they knew it wouldn’t just stop at this one. The MO was too developed for it to be a one-off. It scared the bejezus out of them both.

          Newt barely had time for a shy smile and a soft greeting before Percival drug him in for a hot, openmouthed kiss, absently pushing his way through the door to close it behind him. He pressed the lanky form against the wall and held him with a hand on his hip and a thigh pressed between his legs. The whimpering moan that left him made Percival stop and pull back, dark eyes taking in Newt’s face, looking for any sign of dissent.

          Flush-faced, Newt drug in an unsteady breath, his eyes bright and pupils blown. “I’m n-not sure where that came from, but I- I think I like it?”

          Percival chuckled and came in for another deep kiss, a groan rumbling out of his own chest when Newt squirmed against him, the evidence of his arousal hard against his thigh. This was farther than they’d ever gone, the intent heavy between them as Newt’s long, cool fingers made their way under Percival’s coat and pulled at his shirt, eager to get to the warm skin underneath.

          “Percy,” Newt breathed against his lips when they surfaced for air. “God, Percival I’ve never felt this way… the ache is incredible. Why haven’t I ever felt this way before?”

          Percival shuddered and pressed a kiss to the area just under Newt’s ear. “To be honest, honey, I haven’t either,” he whispered, and realized it was the truth. Before Seraphina, there had been a few lovers, sporadic through high school and college. He’d made his way through partners of both sexes but hadn’t ever felt anything even close to what he was feeling right now, with Newt. He had been faithful to Seraphina during the entire ten years they were married, even when their bed went cold and she sought out others to fill that void. It just wasn’t his style to wander- it never had been. A serial monogamist was the term his buddies teased him with, and he had to roll his eyes and agree.

          Newt pulled back just far enough so he could see Percival’s face, his eyes searching, disbelieving at first. “Y-you can’t be-,” he stammered, before gasping when Percival swooped back in to take his mouth again. His hips bucked involuntarily when the muscled thigh between his legs moved a little more firmly against his erection. He whimpered, “Gods, Percy.”

          “Let me take you to bed,” Percival murmured against his mouth, the hand on his hip traveling down to cup him through his trousers. “I need to touch you, Newt. I need to… I just need you.”

          There must have been something in his voice, because Newt pulled back and searched his face again, locking eyes in that strangely thorough way he had when he finally made contact. Percival braced himself and started pulling his control back, waiting for him to say no, to say he wasn’t ready, that he…

          “Please,” the younger man said, shattering the expectations Percival had started to build. “I don’t know where the urgency is coming from, b-but I- I’ve been waiting for this.”

          The timing was off from what Percival had envisioned. A closet romantic, he’d wanted to wine and dine his companion, to take him over and over again on some special night, in a special way. Though, as he pressed the lithe form into the hastily made bed, mouths frantic and hands exploring every inch of skin they could find, Percival couldn’t find any fault.

          Finally, able to taste that freckled stretch of neck and to feel the trembling thighs part to make room for him to nestle between, Percival knew. He knew that this was exactly where he needed to be, when he needed to be there. He whined, low and needy at the back of his throat when Newt’s broad palm stroked his length, thumb flicking over the head before gliding back down. He rested his head against Newt’s collarbone, breathing in a deep, shuddering breath to try and slow down the racing of his blood. He’d been thinking about this for so long, knowing it would eventually happen, but not truly expecting it.

          To give himself some space, he moved down Newt’s body, stopping to lap and nip at a budded nipple, sucking hard when the young man jolted in reaction, hands burying in Percival’s hair to grip a little too hard. It was just the right thing, and Percival switched his attention to the other side before making his way further down, nipping at a hipbone before sucking another bruise into the pale skin.

          The sound Newt made when he took him into his mouth was a mix of a strangled moan and a shout, those perfect fingers clenching in dark hair. Percival had forgotten how much he loved having his hair pulled, the release of endorphins making his eyelids flutter. Newt bucked up unconsciously, and Percival sucked hard, pinning narrow hips to the mattress even as he choked on the thickness, fighting past the gag reflex. It had been forever since he’d done this, but once you mastered it, the knowledge never really went away.

          Newt was making such beautiful sounds, breathy and unconscious as he lost himself. Percival wanted to keep going, to take his young man over the edge and taste him on his tongue. But that’s not what he really wanted for their first time. He gave another long pull, dragging his lips up Newt’s length before pulling off completely. Shaking, Newt drew him up and feverishly kissed him, fusing their mouths together with a new urgency.

          Percival lined himself up and wrapped his hand around both of them, grunting when Newt’s fingers convulsed on his shoulders once, before one hand came between them to join his. It would have been better with a little lube, but when he leaned back and looked down at the sight of their linked fingers moving over and against that most sensitive of places, his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. He watched Newt’s face as their movements became more frantic, clumsier, and wanted to always remember the way those bitten lips parted so sweetly, dropping open in pleasure. That fantastic flush traveled all the way down his chest, ivory skin going blotchy.

          Percival leaned down and covered that perfect mouth, swallowing the soft gasps and whimpers as they chased their climax. Newt held his breath and whined when he hit his peak, the pulsing of his cock and the feel of the young man going rigid against him throwing the detective into his own release. Afterward, Percival rested his forehead against Newt’s and tried to remember how to breathe.

          When he went to pull away to ease the weight pinning the younger man down, Newt made a small noise and tightened his arms around him. “Just a bit longer,” he murmured, face pressing against Percival’s neck. “Please.”

          Shifting just so that he wasn’t directly lying on his lover, Percival rested his head on Newt’s chest, pressing his ear against the strong, racing pulse of his heart. Fingers brushed through his hair languidly, nails lightly scraping his scalp and he made a low, pleased sound from the back of his throat.

         “I love it when you do that,” he murmured. There was a pause, then a light laugh. He pulled up to rest his chin on Newt’s sternum. The laughing, freckled face looking back down at him was breathtaking, and in that moment, he knew he’d do whatever it took to keep him safe.

         His unguarded expression must have reflected his emotions, because Newt went a little serious, brushing his fingertips across Percival’s cheekbone gently. “Something happened today.”

         Leaning into his touch, eyes fluttering closed, Percival answered, “Yeah, something happened. I can’t really talk about it, but it reminded me of how much I’ve really come to care about you. It would kill me if anything ever happened to you, Newt. You’ve become very important to me.”

         Newt smiled, and it was so achingly sweet. He tugged at Percival until he was able to kiss him again. “You’ve become very important to me too. So much, it scares me,” he admitted.

         Percival gathered him close and flipped them so that Newt was curled up against his side, head resting on his shoulder. They lapsed into silence, just soaking up the closeness and warmth of each other. Newt had just taken a breath to say something when a text-alert came from Percival’s pants pocket. He made a disgruntled sound and tightened his arms for a moment before gently disentangling. After a quick check of his phone and a trip to the bathroom to clean up, he came back and nearly climbed right back into the bed next to the mussed man that looked far too delectable for his own good.

         “I wish we had more time,” he sighed as he cupped Newt’s face. He pressed a kiss to his forehead, eyes, cheeks, and finally his mouth, lingering there for as long as he could. There was another impatient ding, and he pulled away again. “The life of a cop.”

         “I’m good with it,” Newt told him with a half-smile as he watched him dress. “I wish we had more time, too, but I understand.”

         “Can you do me a favor? Be careful when you’re out and about. Make sure everything is locked when you get home and try not to go anywhere isolated or alone. Maybe have Jacob or Queenie walk you home after shift?”

          Eyebrows coming down, Newt asked, “Does this have anything to do with the police activity on campus?”

         Torn between wanting to keep him safe, and not wanting to freak him out, Percival paused in tying his shoes. He sat back up and turned on the bed, taking Newt’s hand. “It does. I really can’t talk about all the details, but it was pretty bad. I need to know you’re safe. Can you promise me you’ll be smart about personal safety? More vigilant than you normally would be. I know you’re aware of the dangers; Londoner, then New Yorker, you have the skills to have made it this long. But this… this isn’t stranger on stranger violence or a mugging gone wrong. Don’t go anywhere with anyone you don’t know really well, even if they’re an acquaintance.”

          Looking a little scared, Newt nodded. His smile was wry when he said, “I guess it’s good that I’m socially awkward, then, ‘cause I’ve been known to go out of my way to avoid close contact with people in general.”

        “Walk me to the door?”

        At the door, Newt pulled Percival back in and gave one last lingering kiss. “Do you want to come by for dinner tonight? If you have time, if you don’t that’s okay.” He straightened with a look of realization, “Oh, bugger! You didn’t actually get anything for lunch! Wait a moment, and I can box up some of the food for you to take with you.”

         Percival watched with fond amusement as Newt, wearing only a pair of oversized pajama pants, rushed into his kitchen to scoop what looked like some sort of pasta into a plastic container. When he came back with everything packed into a dark blue cloth shopping bag, Percival couldn’t resist another kiss.

         “You’re a wonder, you know that?” There was another ding from his cell phone, and he cursed, rolling his eyes as he fished it out. “I’ll text you when I have a free minute, and I’d love to come by later. It might be too late for dinner, but I’d love to see you.”

         “I’ll feed you anyway.”

         Leaving with his heart full and body humming, Percival knew that he had to solve this case before it escalated into something even more terrible.

*~*~*

          Queenie showed up about an hour later, knocking at Newt’s door just as he finished a long shower. He wrapped himself in the ancient flannel robe he’d nicked from Theseus when he was a teenager and still wore when he was feeling out of sorts and missing home. Biting back a sigh and knowing that his friend wouldn’t be easily swayed from coming in, and she had a key, he went to answer the door.

          “Hey, doll,” Queenie greeted him with a kiss on the cheek before coming past him and into the living room. “I’m bailing on afternoon classes and thought we could maybe get some ice cream and watch some campy movies?”

          Newt, still kind of hovering in the haze of high emotion and physical disbelief, just blinked at her before going beet red and turned on his heel to put his back to her too-sharp eyes. He could almost feel her glee from feet away as he busied himself with the kettle and cups for tea.

          “You have that very satisfied look to you, mister,” Queenie pried with a wide grin, taking a seat on the barstool just on the outside of the countertop, leaning her chin on her palm as she eyed him. When he turned around, her eyes went wide and sparkled madly. Her voice went up an octave as she squealed, “Aaaand a gigantic hickey! Newt!”

        Feeling like his face was on fire, Newt stood rooted to the spot, not knowing if he wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the moment, or bolt for the bathroom to hide. In the end, the pleased look on his friend’s face made him burst into laughter, shaking his head and leaning against the countertop for support.

         In the end, they ended up going out for frozen yogurt and coming back to binge watch baking shows on Netflix, curled up in a pile on the couch with the cats. Around five, Queenie excused herself to go to Jacob’s, kissing Newt’s cheek at the doorstep, ruffling his hair affectionately.

        “I’m super glad you’ve found yourself a sweetheart,” she told him, a serious light in her honey eyes. “Percy’s a good guy and I think you two are a good pair. Just be patient with him, he’s got the same kinda weird schedule Teenie has. Off at all hours. And they see some terrible things; they have to go into really dark places sometimes.”

        Newt couldn’t help the blush that seemed to be a permanent fixture on his face when Percival was mentioned, but he nodded seriously. “I know.” He paused and looked like he was going to say something else before adding with a touch of awkwardness and ignoring the last part of her statement, “It’s okay, I don’t really care for having someone over my shoulder all the time anyway. You have fun with Jacob, and I’ll see you soon.”

        Left alone, Newt went back to the living room and flopped down on the couch again, staring up at the ceiling as thoughts whirled through his mind. Pickett hopped up on his stomach and laid down, his warm body a welcome weight. Percival wasn’t anything near what Newt had ever hoped to have in a boyfriend. To be fair, Newt hadn’t ever really thought about having a partner at all.

        Attraction had happened before, of course. He’d had crushes on classmates and the odd coworker, but nothing had ever come of it. Leta… he squeezed his eyes shut at the thought of his old friend, expecting the same shard of pain that normally shot through him, but was surprised when it didn’t come. Leta had been his first love, his first close human friend outside of his brother, and she’d used him. He’d protected her at the expense of his education, an expulsion that had gone on his school records. If it hadn’t been for his head of house and Theseus, he might have even had charges put against him. As it was, he’d had to leave Hogwarts in disgrace and finish his schooling at a public school.

         In the end, it had worked out for the best. He’d been able to blend in a bit better with a bigger school, a larger student body. Of course, there’d been bullies. For a kid like Newt, there were always bullies, but it hadn’t been as personal. As long as he kept his head down and just did his schoolwork, he was fine. He made a few casual friends but had kept his distance. It made it easier to hide the spiraling depression and his struggles to overcome it.

        It hadn’t been until he’d come to New York and met Jacob that Newt realized having friends wasn’t all about getting close to someone only to have them exploit your loyalty and kindness, then run when it was convenient. Over the last few years, he’d grown into the realization that his oddities weren’t deal breakers, that he wasn’t destined to bumble his way through without human contact. But he had never in a million years thought that he would meet someone like Percival, that he would fall so hard so fast. That he would trust someone to be this close. That it would feel so good.

        He rubbed at his eyes and grinned at nothing, feeling the tingle of excitement that he hadn’t felt since the very early days of his and Leta’s childish friendship.

*~*~*

          He fought to keep the rage under control when he saw Newton with the blonde hussy, the touch-shy boy not only allowing the girl to touch him, but even initiated the contact himself a few times. Gellert stood back and watched from a distance as the young couple tasted different kinds of frozen treats, his teeth clenching as the younger, blonde Goldstein playfully dotted his Newton’s nose with a sample cup of ice cream. The redhead’s eyes crinkled as he laughed, turning away and batting at the woman’s hands as she tried to wipe it away again. What had happened to the dark-haired police detective? Was he no longer in the picture?

          Newton didn’t seem to be the type to have more than one suitor at a time, so this must be a friendship. Gellert had seen them together before, palling around campus and studying together in the library. He followed discreetly, hat pulled down low over his face as the pair moved through the busy city streets, chatting in low, happy voices. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but his jaw ticked at the way the simpering girl clung to Newton’s arm. She had her arm slipped through his, their bodies close and touching as they walked. Newton looked down at her, his smile affectionate and genuine. Gellert had only seen his student nervously bare his teeth in brittle smiles, or barely there twitches of lips.

          He followed them to the large brownstone complex where Newton lived, watching as they walked past the wall of mailboxes. The blonde giggled and said something that made him flush, his face and neck going a brilliant, fascinating red. Newton shook his head, ducking his chin to look at the ground. Goldstein’s husky chuckle sent an icy shiver of rage down his spine as she cupped a well-manicured hand over _his boy’s_ cheek and brought her painted hips to his temple before taking his hand and jogging toward the elevator.

          Newton drug his feet in protest, saying something about the elevator before being pulled inside. As the doors slid shut, Gellert watched as the girl ran her fingers through red curls, touching a spot on the young man’s neck.

          People flowed around him as he stood there, watching the building for longer than what was reasonable or safe, hands clenched into fists inside his coat pockets. He felt a text-alert come from his phone, and he forced himself to relax his shoulders. It wouldn’t do to be noticed. Blinking slowly, he looked around casually before striding toward the building. Just inside the foyer, he made a show of looking through the billboards and jotting down the management number just in case someone saw him as suspicious. If it came back to him that he needed a reason to be here, he could use apartment-hunting as an excuse.

          Making a mental note to call the number to get it on record, Gellert pulled his phone out and checked his texts. Albus was wondering if he was coming home early since their afternoon classes had all been canceled due to the police activity. His husband was holed up in his office at the university getting caught up on grading, but he’d be game to duck out for the right reasons.

          Walking back toward the college, he started typing out an excuse, too keyed up to keep appearances, even to Albus. On second thought… he deleted his original reply and started again. _That sounds brilliant, love. The first one home sets the stage._

          A little playtime was just what he needed to get out this frustration.

 

*~*~*

 


End file.
